Shaggy Hair
by agreywriter15
Summary: If there was one thing that Ben fears the most, it's going back to this place. He swore he could have nearly died. Will Ben, face his fear all for the sake of the girl, who constantly and will forever call him a doofus? BxG one-shot.


Shaggy Hair

Summary - If there was one thing that Ben fears the most, it's going back to this place. He swore he could have nearly died. Will Ben, face his fear all for the sake of the girl, who constantly and will forever call him a doofus? BxG one-shot.

Disclaimer - I do own Ben 10. This story is simply a fan fic made by me.

* * *

Sitting, in one of the stool red chairs, eyes, nervously looking from one corner to the other, sat a terrified Ben. His fingers, which lay quietly at his side, drummed the lines of the chair; tapping the fabricated furniture, as each second seemed to pass.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it. After all the mere thought of doing this, simply frightened him. He wouldn't even go near it, without doing everything he can to avoid it. The last time he was here, he swore he could have nearly died. So why the change of mind?

Thinking back, it all started, when Gwen had noticed the slight length of it, nearing his eyes, and had started to nag him about it. "_It's too long. You're going to be blind, Ben."_ She was right after all. Her main sense of judgment, based on her observation, is usually never wrong. It was already covering the top of his brows. If he kept it that way, he would've had a hard time seeing, much less see what is actually in front of him. But, he didn't mind.

He watched as the stylist continued on with his business. Clip, snip, snap. As each hair seemed to fall, he grew more and more frightened. He didn't want to do it.

"_You look terrible with that style." He remembered her saying._

_He was beginning to wonder if she was right. She was good with these sorts of things. He decided that tonight he would see for himself; his reflection. _

_Later that same day…_

_He had made sure to be very quiet. His cousin and Grandpa Max were already sleeping. He tiptoed towards the bathroom door, silently closing the door shut. The next few seconds seemed like a total blur. Just when he had went inside; he took a glance at the mirror. A creature with no eyes seemed to peep back at him, staring at him from the mirror. Ben nearly jumped and fell, letting out a quick yell and hurriedly tried to find the switch._

_Lights on. The creature before him was still there, but he could clearly see that it was just himself. He lifted a handful of his bangs, which covered his eyes. "Gwen's right, I really do need it."_

Ben flinched at the sudden feeling of a warm spot on his shoulder. He looked to his grandfather beside him.

"It's your turn, Ben." His grandfather smiled.

"Why am I here again, grandpa? I thought I hated this?" he asked looking at the now empty chair in front.

"You wanted this, remember, Ben?" Grandpa Max casually replied.

That's right it was his idea. Biting, down his lip, holding his breath, Ben walked down the stool chair and went, and began his walk to the stylist.

The stylist wore a creepy smile. His eyes were wide and "happy"; his mouth seemed to be locked in a tight smile. He gestured to the seat in front of him.

"Come, here little fella." He greeted.

Ben gulped down. He wanted to run away, right then and there. There was no way he would have ever agreed to this. What was he thinking? He eyed the scissor, comb, shampoo, which lay all neatly before him.

"That's it, now sit down." said the stylist, watching as Ben sat down. "Now I'll be right back. I'll give you a magazine to see which one you'd like."

He tossed a magazine towards Ben, landing neatly on his lap. Ben was surprised at his accuracy.

The name of the magazine was "The Cliché". The magazine had a picture of young men, with all different types of hairstyles. As he flipped through the pages, Ben, could hardly decide, much less look, for what he wanted. There was a picture of a blond haired, his hair in a punk fashion. A brown haired man, who had his hair look like a small Mohawk. The last picture showed, a black haired man, with his hair reaching his shoulder in big curls.

Ben could feel a small shiver, running down his spine. If he was to look like any of these men, then would rather not do it at all.

"Are we done yet?" called a voice.

Ben looked up to the stylist, back, with a pair of shiny, light blue scissors. He watched as the stylist, opened and closed the item, in a fast manner, as if anticipating the moment. Ben could picture himself, running away and screaming really loud. He could care less what other people would think.

"_Change your style." He remembered her saying._

Ben turned back to the stylist. Remembering, her words that was all that really mattered.

"Aah…the Shaggy look, right?" asked the stylist referring to the picture on the far bottom right of the page. "Let me guess. It's for your girlfriend, right?" he chuckled.

Ben blushed slightly. Shaking his head, he answered "N-n-no-o." he stuttered.

The man laughed. "Judging by your stutter there. I'm guessing correctly that I'm right."

The stylist began cutting away, reaching for his appliances. Ben could only watch in silence as bits and pieces of his hair, gradually, falling down.

He thought back to the stylist's last statement. True this was definitely not for himself. It was for a girl. Only that girl was his cousin because she had suggested this. His mind wandered around her, for the moment. Will she like his new look?

"Alright, young man, were done now. Do you like your new look?" he asked swerving Ben's slightly turned chair to face the mirror.

Ben looked in the mirror in front. Staring back at him was a face similar to his own. His bangs were shorter, only reaching the middle of his forehead, and tucked neatly to the side. He was sure she would like this.

He turned to face the stylist. "Thanks." He stated simply.

"Anytime my boy." The stylist answered.

His grandfather got up from his seat and went next to him.

"See, it's not so bad, Ben." He gave a small smile to his grandson.

"I guess. If you're encouraged." Ben replied.

"_Your look." Gwen stated._

"_What about it?" he questioned._

"_It's changed." Was all she answered._

_-_

_In Ben's Imagination…_

_Ben was greeted with a loud thump, as suddenly a pair of arms, threw itself around him, nearly dragging him to the ground. _

"_Ben!" she greeted._

"_Hey, Gwen." He greeted back._

_She eyed his new look. _

"_Who told you to change your look?" she questioned._

"_My look? Don't you remember Gwen?" he asked._

"_I don't remember, Ben." Was all she replied._

"_Gwen."_

_She gave him a slap to the face._

"_You jerk. Don't tell me another girl flirted her way to you?" she eyed him wearily._

"_Uh…Gwen?"_

"_Ben! Answer me!" she cried, shaking him._

"_Gwen."_

"_Ben!" her voice, higher pitched._

"_Gwen, listen."_

"_Ben! Wake up!"_

_-_

"Were here sport." His grandfather stated, as he parked the RV. "You want to go upstairs and greet your cousin?"

"Huh?" Ben blinked.

"Deep sleep, right?" he grandfather calmly replied.

Ben didn't answer. He got out of the RV and went to the motel.

-

"Well you look who had just arrived." Gwen greeted, as she appeared suddenly from behind the previous locked door.

"Leave me alone, Gwen." He muttered.

Gwen ignored his last statement. Taking a few steps forward, she blinked to clear her eyes, from any sort of hallucination.

"Aww…you followed my advice. I must have a big influence on you Ben." She smirked.

"Do not." He hastily replied.

"You know Ben, I like your new look. It's way better than the other one." She grinned, fingering her own lock of hair.

"Y-you do?" he questioned.

He could not believe it. He thought she viewed him as a mere doofus. With all the traits of one and the personally of one too. And giving a complement? A cousin who calls her cousin a doofus, would surely never in the entirety of time, would ever say it.

"Sure I do." She answered. "Why wouldn't I?"

She smiled sweetly at him. Ben could feel tiny butterflies floating in his stomach and rising up to his already tight airway. He could his knees wavering, like a jelly of goo, his palms, beginning to shake. He blushed, at her answer.

"Gwen?"

She turned to face him. "Hmm…? Yes, Ben?"

This was it. It was either now or never.

"Gwen, I-I-" he began.

She put a finger to his lips, instantly turning him quiet.

"I feel the same way." She answered.

Hand feeling it's way around his hair, Gwen pulled him to her, giving him a soft kiss.

She pulled back, breathing softly. "Do you feel the same?" she asked.

Ben's answer, was simple. Grabbing her, by the waist, he kissed her in return.

Perhaps, getting a haircut, every once in a while, wasn't so bad after all.

End.

* * *

Well what do you guys, think? Was it good? I know, I know Ben would actually never be scared of getting a haircut. I just decided to tweak his personality a bit. Tell me what's on your mind okay? All comments welcome. ^_^


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